Page 37 of Game On

Jamie clattered behind him, chattering on about how obviously Dorian was hearing one of the neighbour’s dogs, probably the exuberant cocker spaniel from across the street that often escaped its fenced yard, and hey, why didn’t they go see if they could find it before it got lost or hurt and return it to its owners before Jamie had to leave.

Dorian swung the door to Jamie’s room open, and there, sitting perfectly still between the end of the bed and the wall, was a tiny black dog.

“Okay. Before you get mad...” Jamie slid past Dorian and into the room, where he crouched by the dog’s side. “It was an emergency.”

This should be good. “A dog emergency,” Dorian said, deadpan.

“Yes, see, Poppy here, well...” Jamie covered the dog’s ears and whispered, “Her owner just died.”

Dorian, very maturely, did not laugh at the gesture.

Uncovering the dog’s ears, Jamie added, “And there was no one else to take her. Her owner’s family doesn’t live in the province except for a grandson, and he can’t take her because he has four kids at home under the age of five—the youngest two are twins, you know? He and his wife can’t handle a dog right now.” Jamie’s eyes were as liquid as the dog’s. “The rest of the owner’s family doesn’t want to shell out the money to come get her, and a shelter is no place for a trained Shih-poo, and it’ll only be for a week, max, just until?—”

“Take a breath, Jamie,” Dorian interrupted.

Jamie did, inhaling sharply.

“I don’t need all the details. The dog needed a place to go. I get it. I know I said no pets, but I do have some humanity.”

“Oh.” Jamie blinked. “Well, obviously. I never meant to imply that?—”

“Zip it, hotshot.”

Jamie zipped it, eyes as big as the dog’s face.

Ugh. He was so goddamn earnest. How was he a real person?

Dorian sighed and gave in to the inevitable. What else was he supposed to do? “She can stay.” He held up a hand as Jamie’s entire face lit up. “But only for the week.”

“Um, right. Except it might be more like... two? It’s just that I’m leaving in a couple of days for a series of away games and I won’t be back until next Friday, and I want to be around to meet the potential new owners to ensure she goes to a good home?—”

“Fine, fine.” Dorian flapped an arm. “Two weeks. Whatever.”

“Awesome. You hear that, Poppy?” Jamie squished the dog’s face between his hands and rubbed their noses together. “You get to stay. And if you’re really good, maybe Dorian will give you a treat.”

Dorian liked to think that his heart was hardened against sappy shit, but even he had to admit that the sight of man and dog crouched on the floor did things to him he didn’t want to look at too closely.

Jamie rose and turned a megawatt smile on Dorian. “Can you watch her for the next couple of hours? If I don’t leave now, I’m going to be late.”

“For what?”

“Drinks.”

No wonder he was dressed for a photoshoot. “At nine on a Tuesday?” Dorian’s stomach sank. “You have a date?”

Jamie’s snorted laugh held no humour. “Yeah, no. Meeting with a potential sponsor. They’re only here for a couple of days and this was the only time they could meet with me.”

“And you want me to...” Dorian’s gaze fell to the dog. “Watch Poppy?”

“If you wouldn’t mind. My car’s going to be here any minute, and I can’t take her to the restaurant. I already took her for a wa—” Cutting himself off, Jamie cupped his hands around his mouth and whisper-shouted, “W-A-L-K.” He dropped his hands. “She’s eight years old, so she’s not an exuberant puppy. She’ll probably just sit in your office and watch you work.”

“Um... okay?”

“Great. Thanks.” Another megawatt smile and Jamie was out the door, shouting over his shoulder about there being dog food and treats in the bag by his bedroom door.

Dorian eyed the dog. Crouched down to her level. Cocked his head.

The dog huffed, dog tags jingling, and regarded him right back.

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